Thursday, December 10, 2009

Snowy Days

We had our first snow storm of the winter here this week.  It tracked mostly south so it wasn't awful up here but it did necessitate some school closings and a rash of accidents as people of MN slowly remembered that they do indeed know how to drive in snow.

I found myself staring out the windows at the snow with a strange nostalgia.  Certainly it is not the snow itself.  I tolerate snow and cold because extreme heat is worse so it wasn't that.  It took Mr. Goat to center the emotion for me.  The last snow storm I experienced was the day baby goat was born.  All my numbers were headed in the wrong direction and the Dr. decided that it was time.  A storm was on the way but luckily the family was able to get into town just ahead of the storm.

I don't really remember much about the storm, just watching it swirl around as they prepared me for my c-section and afterwards as I suffered through the necessary mag sulfate hot flash.  I remember thinking that it shouldn't be snowing since baby goat was due after Easter.  It wasn't time.  Except it was time.

It is strange to be back at winter again.  Baby goat's first birthday is less that 3 months away.  He's not confined to an isolette to maintain his temperature, but will yank off any attempts at a hat or mittens before you even make it outside. 

Sometimes I think I must sound like a broken record thinking back to his birth and how he is now, but I guess I can't help it.  Little things daily remind me of that time: bedrest, c-section, NICU.  It swims up in me unawares, this strange nostalgia.  I have no desire to repeat the whole situation but there are times I linger there emotionally.  It is a strange emotion too - a kind of painful joy - much like the pain of breathing in winter's frigid air.  It hurts but it lets you know that you are powerfully alive. 

I've been looking at pictures of baby goat lately and noticing just how much he's changed in these 9.5 months.  He's such a little boy now - with little teeth nibs sticking out making him look like a strange smiling beaver boy. 

And so I stand by the window, watching the blowing snow, and remember then and now and the blessings we've been given.

3 comments:

Tiffany said...

Liz,

You are not a broken record. The birth of a child is a vivid memory in any mother's mind, much less when it doesn't go as planned. There are so many times I look at my kids or something triggers a memory of just how small they were. I think it is there so we remember what a precious gift they are and no matter how they came into the world, they grow and change and we should savor every moment we have with them because they are adults in a blink of an eye. We have 18 years with them and while to them it seems like a lifetime, to us mothers, it isn't nearly enough. So hold on to the nostaligia, after all, you will need it to help you through the terrible 2s and 3s and then again when they are teens and we know nothing. It brings joy to my heart when I see how big he is and how well he is developing especially thinking where he was not even a year ago. :)

Spot On Your Pants said...

I decided snow is much more fun as a kid. We were shoveling ALL day (see post) and the neighbor kids were busy making an igloo or some other suffocation hut.

Anti-Supermom said...

Liz, Henry was born in January during this huge snowstorm, it was such a great memory (as much as I dislike snow). I think fondly of us being stuck in the house, buried under.

You told your story so well. Loved it.